A Most Excellent Adventure :: A Gorgeous Azure Iceberg

Friday, August 27th - - About half an hour after leaving the whales we started seeing small icebergs in the water. There was one in particular that was extremely large and Captain Steve said it was stuck on something as it had been in the same spot for several days.

It didn't look too impressive from a distance but Steve said it was worth taking a look at. He slowed the boat, went in close (very close), and cruised completely around it. The color was so intense and amazing, especially on the other side where the light was better. Incredible, actually.






And even more wondrous things were yet to be seen...

More Blackberries

After breakfast we decided to take a walk around the large yard that Paddy calls home. It was so pretty and green and there was one of northwestern Oregon's light, misty rains sprinkling on us. But that didn't stop us from exploring the huge blackberry patch to find the fruit that Jim had missed earlier. For once I had my fill of fresh blackberries.
Of course you have to fight the birds and deer for them. But that is part of the fun.

Cross-Cultural Relationships

Cross-cultural relationships are complicated to navigate. Once the novelty wears off, the differences can create a rift between partners. But the differences can also bring the couple closer by compelling them to communicate about things that are taken for granted by same-culture couples. In the process, the couple may discover that despite their different backgrounds, they actually have more in common with each other than with their own kind. Three months into their life together, I think that myGazelleand the Co-Habitant'sPashleyare accepting each other's differences and discovering their similarities in the nicest way possible.



ThePashley Roadsterhas the lower-set North Road handlebars characteristic of English bicycles, but in other ways it seems to have more in common with the Gazelle.They sharenot only the 28" wheel size, but also frame proportions, angles, relative weight, and handling. The Pashley Princess seemed to be a much smaller bicycle when it stood next to the Pashley Roadster than the Gazelle does. And I have already written about the mysterious differences in ride quality between the men's and lady's Pashleys. The Gazelleseems like a better-matched companion in terms of acceleration and hill-climbing. I would also say that the Pashley Roadster is more similar to the Dutch Gazelle than to the English Raleigh DL-1 Roadster. There is a certain heavy stateliness the Pashley and Gazelle share that the Raleigh DL-1 does not. Despite the rod brakes and the vintage vibe, the DL-1 is actually a lighter and sportier bike than either of these two.



What exactly in the design of the Pashley Roadstermakes it more similar to my Dutch bike than to my previous English one, I do not know. But these similarities have certainly been a positive factor in the Gazelle and Pahsley's relations.



The English gentleman and the Dutch lady... a case in point that cross-cultural relationships can work.

My Birthday Cake

Pink Geranium

It is so hard to get any decent photos of the Sandia Mountains and my flowers without getting the power lines in them.

Bicycles, Walls and the Passage of Time

Over the holidays I received a DVD of a film diptych that I'd long wanted to watch: Cycling the Frame and The Invisible Frame, directed by Cynthia Beatt.



In 1988, Beatt made the short filmCycling the Frame. Described as a "cine-poem," this 30 minute documentary follows a young British actress (Tilda Swinton) as she cycles along the perimeter of the Berlin Wall in what was then West Berlin. It is a 100 mile journey along mostly abandoned roads and overgrown dirt paths crossing forests and fields. The ever-present wall, with its menacing guard towers, turns the landscape surreal: It severs railroad tracks, creates paths to nowhere, and separates waterfront properties from the bodies of water they front. As Swinton pedals, she vocalises her stream-of-conscience thoughts about the things she sees and how they make her feel. As she grows tired of cycling and overwhelmed with her surroundings, the film begins to resemble a dream sequence. Finally she arrives to her Brandenburg Gate start and concludes that "this place is mad."



More than two decades after the original journey, the director and actress set out again to film the follow up, The Invisible Frame. In , they retrace their route along the now long-absent Berlin Wall. A visibly more mature, sharper dressed Tilda Swinton cycles the perimeter, this time weaving back and forth across the phantom border. There are signs of life now: The roads have bike lanes and motorised traffic. On some of the dirt paths we see joggers, dog walkers, children and other cyclists. But despite an apparent return to normality along these stretches, the majority of the landscape is no less eerie twenty years after the wall's removal. We see abandoned buildings, barren fields, dingy looking lakes, random bits of strangeness. It's as if scarred, dead space remains left where the separation used to be. Disconcerted, Swinton meditates on this as she pedals, concluding that "when one wall comes down others come up."



While these aren't cycling films exactly, the prominent role of the bicycle is impossible to ignore. From a practical standpoint, a bike was necessary to make the films happen. Much of the route along the real/ phantom Wall is not accessible to cars, and traveling 100 miles on foot would not have worked with the scope of the project. The speed of the bicycle matched the speed with which the narrative needed to flow, and even the camera crew traveled via a cargo recumbent. As each film progresses, the bicycle begins to seem increasingly important, merging with Swinton's visceral sense of self. She starts to mention it in her stream-of-conscience utterings, to talk about space in relation to not just her, but to her and the bike, to confuse herself with the bike. While this contributes to the mystical feel of the films, it will also be recognised by cyclists as a completely normal sensation to have during long rides.



It was interesting also that the bicycle seemed well-matched to Swinton's person in each of the films. In the original, the actress's flowing clothing looks worn and a little disheveled; her hair natural and slightly unkempt. The bike she rides is a rickety swoopy mixte with faded paint. In the newer film, Swinton is dressed in a stylized and sophisticated manner. She wears architectural-looking clothing and shoes. There are sharp angles to her haircut, her hair now a platinum blond. The bicycle she rides is angular and modern, its paint metallic. This transformation in personal style and bike echoes the rift I felt between the earlier and the latter films. Cycling the Framecame across as spontaneous and exploratory, whereas The Invisible Frameseemed stiffer and more choreographed. The actress/cyclist is no longer the same person and does not relate to this landscape in the same way. She talks about openness, but speaks in political and philosophical generalities and is seemingly less present in Berlin itself.



Can we ever recreate an experience, or re-visit a place? And can we ever really understand another country, as we tour it on a bike with a foreigner's benign detachment and predatory curiosity? These are the questions these films, with their collective 200 miles of cycling along a real/ unreal wall perimeter, ultimately seem to be asking.



If you are local and would like to borrow my copy, drop me a line. The Invisible Framecan be viewed on netflix, but the original Cycling the Frame was not available online last time I checked.

What's in a Cycling Cap?

I was in the Ride Studio Cafe the other day, when a woman came in to buy a cycling cap. She was already wearing a cap - one that looked to be from the early '80s, faded yellow with "world champion" rainbow stripes. She looked around the shop and tried on several of the caps they sell, but seemed restless and her eyes kept wandering over to me. I was wearing a white cap with rainbow stripes, very much like her own only newer. Before she even approached me, I could sense that she was attracted to my cap. I thought that she was going to ask me where I bought it. Instead she asked if she could have it, buying me a Rapha hat as a replacement.



So that is how I came to be in possession of my very own article of Rapha clothing that I'd critiqued only a week earlier. It's (even) less flattering to my face than my other cap, though admittedly it works better under a roadcycling helmet and the fabric and stitching are of higher quality. But more than anything, I like the unusual manner in which I acquired it. Sometimes an item can serve as a memento of a day or a social exchange, attaining the status of a personal keepsake.



Cycling caps are a very particular design that has become iconic: The skull-hugging panel construction, the small visor that flips up, the racing stripes. I don't think that any of the variations look especially good on most people, but their symbolism seems to hold at least as much appeal as their objective attractiveness or their cycling-specific usefulness. I would bet that the sale of cycling caps went up when Breaking Away came out, as well as more recently, when the Yehuda Moon comic became popular.



On a personal level, a specific cap might remind us of an experience associated with cycling that was exciting, formative or inspiring. Maybe our favourite racer wore one just like it. Or the cool older kid in the neighbourhood used to ride his bike around wearing one. At some point I realised that one of my first memories of my father involved a cycling cap. He is not a cyclist, but it was popular to wear them in Europe in the '80s, especially on the beach. I have a very clear memory of him sitting on a blanket and sipping beer while watching my mother swim in the sea, wearing a cycling cap with the visor flipped up. It was either yellow or white, and it definitely had the "world champion" rainbow stripes. Funny.



When the woman at the RSC asked for my cap, I had the distinct feeling that it reminded her of something, and it made sense to give it to her. But I will probably buy myself another one at some point: Those rainbow stripes remind me of Europe in the early '80s, of vintage bikes, and of childhood days at the beach.

A Special Announcement

Our oldest daughter, Ashleigh, had a baby girl on June 30th. She is too far away from us for me to be there in person, but I got to join in through the power of text messages and it was neat to be included in that way. We are completely smitten with little Aseanti Olivia, who we nicknamed the Princess or Sweet Cheeks. We think she is just perfect, but we might be a bit biased.

The Drop Frame Bicycle - The 'Queen of Safeties' Returns

[image via Atomic Antiques]

Browsing through my favourite vintage bicycle posters, I've always noticed something unusual about the ones of the Boston-basedOverman Wheel Co.: The lady's bicycle appeared to have only a single curved tube - rather than a down tube and a top tube, like the vintage loop frames we are accustomed to seeing. Could this be artistic license for the sake of making the graphics simpler, or did bicycles like this really exist? Several times I had tried to investigate, until finally I found what I was looking for:

[image via the Smithsonian Institution]

The Overman Wheel Co. "Victoria" - a "drop frame woman's safety bicycle," according to the Smithsonian. It had 28" wheels, rod-like brakes, what appears to be some sort of suspension contraption on the fork, an enormous saddle, high handlebars, and a chainguard. Finally, confirmation that the bicycle hinted at in the posters was a real model. And for a machine that was manufactured in 1889, the Victoria looks awfully familiar...



[image via Bikes for the Rest of Us]

And you thought this design was funky and new, eh? Bicycles in this style have been popping up in Europe with increasing frequency over the past 5 years, and have recently made their way to the US as well: A single, oversized curved tube connecting the head tube and the seat tube - sometimes with reinforcements and sometimes without, combined with a suspension fork, suspension seat post, plush saddle and high handlebars.



[image via Tom Coghlan]

The reasoning behind the single curved tube design, is that it allows for extra low step-over height, making the bicycle especially accessible for those who wear long, loose clothing, as well as for those who have balancing problems when mounting even the standard step-through frames. And the funny thing is, that while everyone agrees that the low step-over is beneficial, many also complain about how "ugly and modern" it is. I wonder how many are aware that the "drop frame" design is in fact 120 years old!



[image via The Daily Postcard]



As I've mentioned here earlier, I think that any design that makes the bicycle more accessible to those who would otherwise be intimidated by it, is a good design. With its super-low step-over, the drop frame is inviting and safe-looking - no wonder the original was described as "the queen of safeties". Having ridden a few modern versions of these bikes in Austria a couple of years ago, I found them easy to deal with. But I wish there was a way to make them look and feel a little nicer. The suspension fork on the modern bikes is probably there because the aluminum frame makes them painful to ride over bumps. But the suspension has the side-effect of creating a "bouncy" feeling that does not give the cyclist optimal control of the bicycle. I wonder how the original Overman bicycles were made: Were the frames lugged? Was the ride comfortable? I suppose we will never truly know how these compared to today's bikes.

I think the modern reincarnation of the drop frame is a great idea in principle, if only it could be made more elegant. What do you think of the vintage and modern versions? - could you benefit from the low step-over, or do you find the regular step-through designs sufficient?

Big Metal Vase

There were these big metal vases or pots by the entrance to one shop.

If You Like It, Get Two... or Three

Last week I was excited to learn about the new bicycle blog started by the fascinating and knowledgeable Justine Valinotti: Mid-Life Cycling.



[image via Justine Valinotti]



Justine is a writer and a college instructor who lives in Queens and blithely cycles all over New York for transportation and recreation. This is a departure from her cycling past: the past of a lycra-wearing, hard-training, fast-spinning, Alps-conquering roadie... named Nick. As the meaning of this sinks in, it is self-evident why Justine's point of view is so valuable. She has experienced the cycling world from two diametrically opposed perspectives: that of a competitive male roadie, and that of a woman who cycles to work in a skirt and heels - and she has much to share about both.



[image via Justine Valinotti]



And then there are Justine's spectacular bicycles!... She has two custom-built, lugged steel Mercians: a roadbike and a single-speed fixed gear, both in an intriguing colour that Mercian calls "flip-flop purple green." It looks lilac under some lighting conditions, but changes to green under others.



[image via Justine Valinotti]



Here is a close-up where you can sort of see the colour change on the rear stays. Justine likes both the Mercians and the colour so much, that she has recently ordered a third one: a mixte model called the Miss Mercian. For those interested in custom lugged mixtes, Mercian is a great option in addition to Rivendell and Velo Orange: The frames come in custom sizes and are fairly priced - including custom colour.



Because I respect her opinion on bicycle-related matters, Justine's preference for Mercian Cycles has made me curious. Mercian has been handbuilding custom lugged steel frames since 1946 in Derby, England. Their models include track, road, and touring diamond frames, as well as a touring mixte. Some vintage Mercian models had elaborate lugwork and are now highly collectible. Over the decades, Mercian's reputation for quality has not changed, and whether in bike shops or on cycling forums, you will be hard pressed to find anything but positive feedback about them - which is particularly impressive considering their reasonable pricing.



[image via Mark Gell on flickr]



This sage green trackbike is the sort of Mercian I would not mind falling into my lap...



[image via Justine Valinotti]



But for now I will live vicariously through Justine and look forward to seeing her Miss Mercian all built up: no doubt there are some interesting adventures in its future. Justine has toured extensively on her trusty bicycles, including such dreamy routes as the Loire Valley of France, the Mediterranean coast, the Rhine, the Alps, and the Pyrenees. Her descriptions of cycling routes are filled with interesting information and nostalgia, making even a ride through New Jersey sound intriguing. And you know she is a practical woman, as she wisely heeds the old adage when it comes to bicycles: If you like something, get two... or three!

Photographing clouds over Speckled Trout Lake

A couple of shotsfrom last weekend in Northern Minnesota. We had gone out paddling on a local lake mostly to look for Loons (of which we did find two) but also just to get out on the water and hopefully get some nice pictures. As sunset approached we were treated to some very nice clouds which reflected quite nicely on the super-calm waters of the lake.

Thanksgiving Snow

Minnesota Northwoods on Thanksgiving Day, - Grand Portage, MN. A different world from the shoreline of Lake Superior where only an inch or two of snow had fallen, a few miles inland was a different story. Here nearly a foot of freshly fallen snow blanketed the landscape on Thanksgiving Day!

James and Tobitha Scott Robison

About a month ago I was contacted by a descendant of James and Tobitha Scott Robison. We *think* that James *could be* a son of Henry and Ann Robison.

That inquiry set me off to "assemble" the information I had on the Robison/Robinson Families of Whitley County, Indiana and to see if I could fill in some of the blank spots. Through evaluation of the census records it was determined that Henry and Ann Robison *may* have had eight children.

In the household of Henry and Ann in 1830 there is one male 10-14 years old (year of birth would be between 1816 and 1820). In 1840 there is one male aged 20-29 years (born 1811-1820). James Robison "fits" into this time frame. Unless there is a bible record out there "somewhere" that provides the names of the children of Henry and Ann Robison, I don't know that we'll ever be able to "prove" that James is their son.

Whitley County marriage records show that James Robinson and Tobitha Jane Scott were married on January 1, 1846. (pdf documents online: Marriage Affidavit and the Marriage Return)

The only James Robison listed in the 1850 census for Whitley county was 32 years old and enumerated in the household of Thomas Cleveland. His place of birth was left blank. At 32 years of age, his year of birth would be about 1818 give or take a year (or two). So where is his wife Tobitha?

In the 1860 census for Cleveland Township, Whitley County (page 212/895) we find James and Tobitha Robinson with three children: 11 year old Samuel, two year old "E" and a 10 year old female. At first glance the name of the 10 year old looks like Martha, but upon closer examination I think it is Marietta. James is a 43 year old laborer, he owns real estate valued at $200 and has a personal estate of $112. He was born in Pennsylvania. Tobitha is 33 years old and was born in Ohio.

In 1870, Tobitha J. Robison is listed in Cleveland Township, Whitley County as head of household. She is 30 [sic] years old, has real estate valued at $150 and a personal estate of $100. She was born in Pennsylvania. Listed in her household is 12 year old Emily Jane, 10 year old Marietta, and 5 year old Arena Ann. All of the children were born in Indiana. If Marietta is 10 years old in 1860, she would be 20 in 1870. Unless, perhaps, the first Marietta died and a daughter born afterwards was given the same name? Was Emily Jane named after James' possible sister Emily?

Online Cemetery Transcriptions for South Whitley Cemetery show the following burials in section U row 16 stones 6, 7 & 8:
Emily Jane Robinson died January 3, 1875 aged 17 years 1 month 7 days
James Robinson died April 2 1860 aged 33 years 6 months 3 days
Samuel M Robinson died October 1855

There is an issue with two of the entries. James is listed in the 1860 census which was enumerated on July 27th. And 11 year old Samuel is listed in the household in 1860 also. Thus, a trip to the South Whitley Cemetery was in order!

Using the two images of the grave marker for James, shown below, I believe his inscription reads "James / Robenson / husband of / T. J. Robenson / died / Apr 12, 1870 / aged / 53 ys 6 m 3 d"



The inscription for James is on the south face of the stone. There is another inscription on the west face that is pretty much illegible, even with using the foil technique. However, it appears to be for the son, Samuel. The date can't be deciphered but since he is listed in the 1860 census I'd be inclined to think that he died in 1865 rather than 1855 as the above mentioned transcription indicates.

A marker to the south of James is also unreadable but it looks like it could be for Emily Jane. To the north of James there is another marker, not included in the online cemetery transcriptions, that reads "Infant / son of / J. and T. J. / Robison"



A little over a year after James' death, his widow remarried. Whitley County Marriages (book 2 page 120) show that Tobitha Robinson was married on June 26, 1871 to Joseph Mintz [sic]. I have not looked at the actual record yet so I don't know if Mintz is a transcription error or if that is what the record says.

My correspondent said that Joseph and Tabitha Montz lived in Chester Township, Wabash County, Indiana and that is where they were found in 1880. Joseph Montz was the head of the household, he was a 57 year old farmer and had been born in Pennsylvania.

His wife, Tabitha J., was 54 years old and had been born in Ohio. Living with them was 15 year old Anna Robison, born in Indiana, identified as a step daughter of Joseph.

If we go back to the cemetery, we'll see a marker to the north of Infant Robison that is now illegible. In the cemetery transcriptions it is identified as J. M. Alburn Carper, son of J & C, who died October 11, 1882 aged 11 years 11 months.

To the north of the Carper stone is that of Tobitha Montz:
Tobitha J / Wife of / Joseph / Montz / died / NOV. 1, 1882 / AGED / 56 Y's 1 Mo. / 27 D's


The James Robison family at South Whitley Cemetery, Cleveland Township, Whitley County, Indiana. Eliza Jane McMannen could be a sister of James.

Joseph Montz is not listed in the Whitley County cemetery transcriptions.

My correspondent is a great-granddaughter of James and Tobitha's daughter, Arena Ann Robison (also known as Irene Ann and Irena). Irene was born January 3, 1865. On June 3, 1883 she was married to Jacob E. Cripe. Sometime in the late 1890s Jacob and Irene traveled west via covered wagon, first living in Missouri for a while and then moving to Kansas. I found them in Montier Township, Shannon County, Missouri in 1900. I haven't found them in the 1910 census index at ancestry. In 1920 Jacob and Irene are living on Fifth Street in Pomona, Franklin County, Kansas. In 1930, Irena is widowed and living by herself on East 5th Street in Pomona.

The following information on Irene's family was transcribed by my correspondent from the Cripe family bible.

• Jacob E. Cripe and Irena A. Robison wed on Sunday June 3, 1883 at the residence of J. Montz. Witnesses were Jacob Grow and wife, Joseph Lands and wife, Bob Cripe and wife and Lizzie Frantz (or Frentz)
• Jacob E. Cripe born July 20, 1852, died October 30, 1928
• Irena A. Cripe born January 3, 1865
• Martha E. Cripe born July 6, 1884
• Mary A. Cripe born January 26, 1888, died January 14, 1908
• Infant son [of Mary's] died January 14, 1908
• Alice Cripe born Nov. 2, 1889
• Ira D. Cripe born June 5, 1894 d. April 27, 1975